King of Diamonds: The Tale of El'Anret, #3

By Melody Klink

Darkness has long been cast over El'Anret.

While two diamond-marked Queens toil under the watch of the monstrous Alexandria, an awakening is happening-- one that the renegade queen would never suspect.

Jack, Stag King of El'Anret, stirs from his crystal slumber. 

As death waits around every corner and honored allies begin to fall, he has but one choice: harness the darkness inside him, before El'Anret falls deeper into madness. Jack must find any ally he can to save not only his mother and the rightful Queen of Diamonds, but the only world he's ever truly called home.

Will the Stag King balance the scales between dark and light, or will El'Anret be lost forever?

KING OF DIAMONDS is the final novella in the Tales of El'Anret series.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bard Girl Press
• Release date: Jun 20, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386624677

Melody Klink

While pretending to be a human, Melody Klink likes to write down words. Lots and lots of them. All to gain the admiration and trust of the human masses. Wait. I mean… Melody Klink is a lovable little scamp with a sweet tooth for all things coffee. When she's not collecting superstitions about the American South, she can be found scribbling out stories on just about anything, which explains her odd assortment of used napkins, pictures of skin, and copious number of notebooks. While her first foray into publishing was Bad Mood Boogaloo, a picture book for toddlers, she also enjoys writing novels, and has several titles in the works. Her debut novel, Godeater: The Second World, released on February 29th, 2016. She currently resides in the Mid-South with her husband, daughters, and one annoying cat.

Book preview

One

ANOTHER GIRL WAS SCREAMING.

Hazel Leigh Mac Tíre could hear her blood-curdling cries as they bounded off the walls of the cavern, and she knew that Alexandria was hard at work. She kept her eyes on the iridescent threads in her chapped, dirtied hands, braiding them together in an infinite weave.

A sudden silence overtook the halls, and Leigh knew she had gone too far.

Lex rounded the corner, licking her lips of stray blood, and tossed the girl's limp body to the side. She returned Leigh's untempered stare. What are you staring at?

Leigh didn't speak a word, but her eyes held fire.

Yeah, didn't think you had the spine to say anything, Lex spat, with a dark laugh.

Just because Leigh could no longer speak, didn't mean she couldn't think, her mind hurling insult after insult at the heathen Queen who had stolen her throne. It had been so long ago now, but time had only steeled her intentions.

One day, she thought to herself as she eyed the opalescent thread, I'll get my voice back, and get my throne back.

One day, I'll strangle you with this.

THE CRYSTALLINE VOID faintly sparkled around him, more darkness than shine after so many years.

In that darkness, his eyes stayed closed, his body still, just as it always had. But this day, his mind perpetually raced, his consciousness flickering on as if a switch had been flipped. He relived every memory, heard every song he had ever known. And then, as if the channel had been changed, the scope of his visions switched. In short bursts, he watched the passing of time, eons and eons stacking upon one another, timelines and clans and wars all intertwining, skipping, back and forth. Life. Creation. Death. 

And just as quickly, it all stopped. A single image stuck in his psyche: his mother, cuffed and chained, being dragged away from Mount RuClane as it burned, besieged by monsters.

Besieged by allies and foes both.

His mind wrestled with pain that his body could not show. He had been kept safe while his only family struggled against the ravages of war. But why?

Prince Jack of the Twilight Court, a voice said plainly. Jack Mac Tíre, often called.

Jack struggled to look around, his eyes fluttering wildly against closed lids.

A figure approached, stepping into the blurry vision of his mind's eye. Closer and closer it came, until Jack could see that a man now stood before him, within him.

Lavender hair. Golden eyes. The young man stood with one foot crossed over the other, propped against nothingness, his dark tunic as bloodied and dirty as his skin. He seemed to study Jack's mind in a way that made him feel vulnerable.

Glad I am finally able to meet you, the man finally said. I have waited such a long time.

Jack struggled to move a long-stilled tongue. He wanted to yell at the man, to ask what he was, who he was...

No need to yell, the intruder added, tapping a ringed finger against his temple before actually opening his mouth to speak. I can hear your thoughts. What am I? A being of long-forgotten memory. A figment of history, one that was past and is now also present. I am—

Long-winded, Jack thought, his patience and royal refinery long gone, his nerves on fire.

The man laughed. All Fae are, Jack. Storied as the worlds themselves. And now, you've seen all of those stories, those worlds. You're more powerful than I ever could have dreamed of being.

I'm trapped in a lifeless body, trapped inside a crystal. Jack's voice was bitter, even in his head.

Not for long, and not for always, the man replied. That power will soon free you. And that is why I'm here, Jack: to set you upon your path, just as I did to another before you. You must save your mother—

Jack noticed a hitch in his voice at those words.

Save Leigh and the rightful Queen of El'Anret, and upright our world. You are the Stag King, just as your grandfather was; the Breaker of Chains. History is yours to write.

They're alive...? How do you know all this?

The man smiled, bowing his head as he began to disperse, a thousand particles scattering on a nonexistent wind, until only the echo of his voice remained. I've watched you and I've watched her, for so very long now. This is the only gift I have left to give. Save her, Jack. For me.

But wait! Jack cried. Who are you?!

There was little else but silence, until he heard his mother's voice whisper: Gideon.

GIDEON, SHE WHISPERED in her mind, over and over again as tears fell. It was midday, but Lex was asleep, ensconced in the royal chambers, sealed in the dark. It was also the only time that Leigh got to rest, though she fought the opportunity.

Queen's Barrow was quiet, even as the Diamondguard swapped positions and shifts. Leigh's tired eyes watched them from the Stocked Hollows that she called home— the place that many of the faithful royal court had called home before losing their lives, one by one.

Stocked Hollows sounded much kinder— lighter— than torture galley, which is what Lex had made of the stocks and holding cells. Where Leigh had made it a civil area, a respectable space for those awaiting justice or sentencing, Lex had added every measure of hurt and pain she could find.

The stench of blood no longer left the halls.

Leigh locked eyes with a passing guard. Cahl was his name— he had served under Kristain, who had served under Holt. And his eyes said I'm sorry even as he marched away from her.

Holt. Leigh hadn't seen him since Mount RuClane. Or Adelay. Or R'haetgan.

Or Jack.

Her heart broke all over again, just as it had for so many days now that she lost count. Even as she cried, she was silent, the wails stuck in her throat and chest and in all the little spaces between the cuts on her body.

She would never believe them to be dead. Not until she saw it with her own eyes... assuming she could still trust them. She fought sleep, not wanting to relive that day, watching her brother dragged away in shackles, screaming her name. Not wanting to see Jack, sealed in a crystal as war waged all around him. Not wanting to watch her life be snatched away.

Gideon, she said to herself, just one more time, just in case he could still hear her.

JACK FLOATED THROUGH the darkening void, no longer able to tell the difference between dreaming and awake. He had heard no more voices in the days— weeks?— since his last and only visitor, just his own thoughts bouncing around his mind. He watched them hit the walls, losing momentum with every bounce.

He was so tired.

He ached for the smell of flowers, the cool of dirt, the embrace of his mother. The wind in his hair, the warmth of his bed. He ached over the stupid things he might never be able to change. But most of all, he ached for who he used to be.

In these long darknesses, he had become a man. An empty husk of a man.

He desperately desired to move, to be able to curl in on himself, to fold up so many times that he would eventually disappear.

But that simply would not do.

There, in the center of his darkness, a tiny movement began. A hint of wind, stirring dust up from an invisible floor. A soft crack. Bits of green peeking through the dirt, in small pushes at first, then an explosion of flora. The green vines spread like wildfire, engulfing the expanse of his mind. And all at once, it bloomed.

Flowers of every color burst open along the greenery, each of them four petals, each of them square. They all reached for him at once, their little vines stretching, turning against themselves to move forward.

No, Jack realized, not squares. They're diamonds.

He was surrounded by cascades of them, some dropping petals and instantly growing more, different colors rising out of the same bloom. One of the flowers finally touched his face, and in that moment between petal and cheek, he heard it.

Wake up, Stag King. The world is waiting.

THE FIRST BURST OF sunlight was painful. Jack's eyes refused to stay open as the light beamed down on